Friday, March 8, 2013

LOST IN TRANSLATION


water. its a never ending bottomless glass here in new york.

water comes with every meal. it is the first thing you are served when you sit down at a restaurant. your waiters/waitresses main objective from here on in is to not let your glass be less than a millilitre from full.  you take a sip and your glass is refilled. you touch your glass to your lips and its refilled. you reach your hand out to our glass and its refilled. you think about taking a swig and its refilled.

our british motto of waste not want not remains instilled within us and so nick and i would never leave a table without our drink drunk. this incessant refilling finally took its toll.

it all happened one rainy saturday when we were out for lunch. we were halfway through our meal when nick took another gulp of water to which the attentive waitress responded by filling his glass back to the top. he then did the unspeakable. he asked her to stop. gasp. he proceeded to tell her that every time she refilled he felt obliged to empty the glass. unfortunately this waitress was not willing to let her duties slip lest she be observed by her manager to let her service fall below par. so nick continued to drink. the waitress continued to pour. and then as we were about to leave. nick stood. put on his coat. stepped away from his chair. reached for his glass. downed it. and ran. its the only way.


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